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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23625754">The Weight of Us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight'>DawnsEternalLight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bonding, Bruce and Dick on patrol just being the Dynamic Duo again, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Patrol, and hugs, but now with added angst, misadventure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:02:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23625754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dick and Bruce's first night patrolling together since Bruce returned from being lost in time, it should be a joyful night of reunion not a series of blunders and miscommunications as Dick tries to find the balance in his life he's missed for so long. Thankfully, his dad is back to catch him when he falls.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson &amp; Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>282</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Weight of Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a gift for the amazingly talented @curb-your-dog on tumblr as a part of a Robin Swap! Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dick flipped off the roof, enjoying the freedom of falling without a cumbersome cape trailing behind him, weighing him down, or getting caught on something on the way down. He didn’t even have to do the very slight mental adjustment not to have the ears on a cowl brush against his chest or knees as he tucked into the flip. He was back in black and blue, his Nightwing uniform free of all the weight and baggage that came with being Batman and Dick was </span>
  <em>
    <span>living</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he landed on the lower roof they were moving to, Dick caught a smile prick the corners of Batman’s mouth as he waited for him. The next moment it was gone and his partner, mentor, </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span>, grunting a noise that could have been anything between “stop showing off” and “let’s get moving”. Even with the noise and the way Bruce’s feet shifted in a need to keep pushing forward on their patrol route, the man didn’t move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out of breath already?” Dick teased, moving close to drop a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “Come on, Old Man, you can’t let one trip through space and time make you a little tired on patrol.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce grunted again, but his smile returned real and easily visible, “I’ll have you know a trip through space and time did wonders for my physique.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something delighted and mischievous bubbled up in Dick’s chest at that. It was akin to how he’d felt when he was ten, flying through the air next to Bruce in pixy boots and a cape so light and fluttery it could have been wings to fly on. He grinned a cheshire smile, sharp and wicked, and all the warning Bruce was going to get. Then he burst forward, pushing away from Bruce off his shoulder with a shout of, “Prove it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chase took them through a few blocks, up and down and across so many familiar rooftops Dick could almost forget the past year of grief. His breath puffed in and out as he pushed himself, his head light with the rush of the chase. If he closed his eyes he could pretend he was a child again, free of responsibilities, of all the choices he’d made, of the lives he’d had to guide, of the grief still burning in his chest despite the fact that there was no reason left to grieve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Bruce swung above him, landing so close Dick had to slide to a stop to keep from plowing straight into him. He stood there for a moment, taking in the man he’d thought he might never see again. The one he’d thought might be a dream built up by a brain bleeding out from a bullet, the one he’d thought would disappear when the pain faded. The one still here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A good show.” Dick said, “I guess it really did buff you up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you two are done?” the question crackled to life from both their comms, Barbara’s voice sounding more endeared than put off, “There’s just been a report of a robbery on 9th.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The robbery was the first sign of trouble on an otherwise slow night, and Dick felt his heartbeat pick up. This would be the first time since Bruce was back that they’d be fighting together. He didn’t count the stuff with Hurt, Damian had been there for one, and for two Dick had been fighting handicapped. Dealing with hole in the head wasn’t exactly how one wanted to be when renewing old habits like fighting alongside one’s father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was excited to see how things had changed, and what was the same. That was part of why Dick and Bruce were out tonight together. Damian was back home with a cold, supposed to be resting but most likely sulking, and Dick had thought the opportunity perfect to have a night out with Bruce, just the two of them, without any of the others or managing a jumpier than normal Robin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick was going to have to sort out Damian’s nerves soon, and explain that while things were changing he was still safe and secure in his position as Robin, his place in their lives, and most of all in Dick’s heart, but that could wait a night. Dick’s new responsibilities could be put off just for a moment so he could fall into the familiar comfort that was the original Dynamic Duo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They found the robbers a block away from the store they’d broken into, heavy packs slung over their shoulders as the men ran on foot to a truck at the end of the street. All Dick’s thoughts of falling further back into old habits were thrown aside the moment he and Bruce jumped into action against them. There were six of them, and it should have been easy to split the group down the middle, but there was something off about the way Dick and Bruce fought together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was obvious almost from the first swing of a fist as Dick and Bruce both moved for the obvious leader, then stumbled to both pick a new target, and finally were pulled aside by the fact that something needed to change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was off. Dick should have been able to fall back into fighting with Bruce, and Bruce should have been able to read Dick-- or at the very least trust his decisions. None of that was happening. The two fumbled their way through the fight, an awkward mess that let too many hits get through and almost let one of the men drive away with a car full of stolen goods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, they managed to stop them all. Even if Damian’s voice was in Dick’s head calling this a “disgraceful display of ineptitude” and telling Dick he was unworthy to have ever been Robin if he couldn’t do something as simple as back Batman up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” Bruce, said once they’d moved away from the scene, the police on their way, “was that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess we’ve got some stuff to work out.” Dick shrugged, “Between us Batmen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t work things out over the next two muggings they faced, or the gang fight they broke up. In fact, it seemed like things between them were getting worse. Dick felt sloppy. Bruce was little better. The energy they’d had during their race was quickly swelling into a mess of miscommunication and bad calls as both attempted to lead, Bruce by nature, and Dick by habit built up over a year of having his partners under his responsibility. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t shake the need in his chest to protect. The desire to call the shots and make sure the man he was working with was safe. Which was silly, because prior to this he’d always been able to fall back in next to Bruce and let him do his thing while Dick backed him up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, now all he could think about was the charred body Clark had brought home. All he could see was the grave they’d put that body into. All he could feel was the panic that Dick thought he’d learned to control when someone he loved was in danger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything felt like danger to him tonight. More danger than normal, the kind of danger he’d send Damian kicking and screaming home from. The kind he’d keep Tim and Cass and Jason (if he’d let him) away from. It was irrational. Dick understood that. Unfortunately rational thought was taking a backseat to fear and grief not quite shed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick was actually considering calling the night off, and seeing if Bruce was ready to wrap things up early when gunshots echoed through the street ahead of them, a high pitched scream following it. Dick and Bruce took one look at each other and bolted towards the sounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were out in the middle of a street, having settled on walking instead of heading back up to the rooftops. It meant that they wouldn’t get to drop in on whatever was going on, but they would be able to jump into action right away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gunshots and screaming had come from behind one of the storefronts, Dick spun around to the back of a building a second after Bruce did, and found Batman already throwing a man into a wall. There was a truck idling a few feet away and close to the back door of the building a woman crouched beside a fallen figure, both in uniforms of whatever store they’d been locking up. A second thug stood between them. He’d probably been threatening the clerks a moment ago, but right now he looked ready to bolt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing Nightwing appear was enough to set the man off, instead of firing at him, he spun on a heel and started towards the truck. Dick vaulted past Batman and the terrorized staff, throwing one of his escarmas forward as he moved. It caught the man square in the back, sending him stumbling forward and slowing his pace enough Dick could tackle him from behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them went down in a tumble of limbs. Dick’s attention was half on trying to pin the man, half on making sure he didn’t get shot in the process. Finally he managed to wrestle the man’s hand down and had a knee pressed to his sternum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick was about to knock him out when he heard a gunshot ring out, far too close for comfort. He braced, thinking the bullet was for him, but when none came, he looked up and around to find Bruce standing in the way. For a moment Dick thought Bruce had been shot. In that moment Dick felt every fear and worry that had been building through the night claw its way up his throat. The mantra it happened. It happened. It happened. Spinning in his head alongside your fault. Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>fault. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Dick saw the whole picture. His eyes caught onto the gloved hand that had yanked an arm off to the side to redirect the shot. Batman squeezed and the thug Dick still couldn’t see behind Batman’s hulking form yelped, and the gun clattered to the ground. Then Batman was hauling the shooter away and Dick had to turn his own attention back to his thug who’d started thrashing against his hold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knocked the man out and as he tied him up, noticed his hands were shaking. Dick stood, and found Bruce had also secured his thug and the surprise third who’d tried to shoot Nightwing. A quick up and down glance told Dick that Bruce was fine, no cloke tugged to hide a wound, no hunched posture, his gait confident as he strode over to the terrified clerks to speak quietly with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally Dick would have moved to do the same, but the tremble from his hands seemed to have made its way up his arms and down his torso to seep all through his body. Bruce was fine. He was fine. They’d made it out of this unscathed, so why did Dick still feel a lingering terror? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his hands into fists, he could still hear that stupid gunshot. It hadn’t even hit anyone, and he was shaking like it had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re going to wait and give a statement to the police.” Bruce said, approaching Dick. He stopped so that the two of them were between the grouped thugs and the frightened staff. Dick could see both groups easily with the turn of his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two staff members were sitting on upturned crates now and Dick learned there was a man along with the woman. He was leaning back against the brick of the building, one hand cradling the back of his head. The woman sat next to him, leg bouncing up and down as she tried to look anywhere but at the Bats or the bad guys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick turned his own attention back on Bruce. The worry in his chest twisted then, and he couldn’t place the reason for it, he only knew it changed from worry to anger. If he wasn’t wearing glove his nails would have bit into his palms. Worry relief and anger twisted and swirled in his stomach making him swallow back words that wouldn’t have made sense to himself, let alone Bruce. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was an attempted burglary, they were hoping to get the end of night cash box.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick nodded, jaw tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce hadn’t seemed to notice, or if he had he hadn’t realized Dick was angry with him. He continued on, “Just the three men, no accomplices. The man is okay aside from a bump he received when he fainted from surprise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d stopped listening, instead focusing on Bruce and how angry he was that his dad had jumped in the way. That he’d put himself in danger over something Dick would have--could have noticed. It was like dealing with Damian again. The kid would have thrown himself in the way of anything to protect Dick and it scared the crap out of him every single time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere in Dick’s mind he knew he was being irrational and that this was all simply a part of the risks they took when patrolling, but he wasn’t listening to that part right now. That part was drowned out by the part that had spent the whole night waiting for something bad to happen and was now on high alert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“--and once they arrive we’ll be leaving.” Bruce finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick blinked at him, his brain trying to reconstruct the conversation he’d missed. They were waiting around for the police? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, why are we sticking around? These guys aren’t getting up any time soon.” Dick asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce sighed and Dick waited for the tt, but that was Damian’s thing not Bruce’s, at least not usually. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, the clerks are scared. I’ve already called the police, it won’t take that long for them to arrive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Dick felt like Damian, petulant and not wanting to stay in an area of danger, especially one he’d marked as dangerous to his Batman. But his anger was fading as quickly as it had arrived leaving him more anxious than anything. The night had been one fumble after another and right now he wanted to be home, teasing Bruce about his refusal to shower before writing up patrol notes and relaxing in the fact that they were both safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, “Alright, after I say we call it a night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce hummed his agreement, further helping some of the panic in Dick’s gut ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was enough to make him smile, and throw his hands behind his head as he started to pace, “Good, it’s been a rough night and all I want right now is something warm to drink and a pillow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved a few steps in the direction of the clerks, then spun on his heel to start back towards Bruce. His dad was watching him, the corner of his mouth almost twitched up in a smile. It was a nice moment, which made it all the more confusing when Batman suddenly threw himself at Dick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crack of another gunshot broke the peace Dick had been cultivating. Bruce’s arms around him tightened as the two of them went tumbling towards the ground and Dick knew it had happened at last. Disaster had truly struck. The realization hit him a millisecond before his back connected with the ground, and Bruce landed atop him, pushing his air one way and then the other in a burst of movement and crushing motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick didn’t have time to let the haze of shock linger. He wiggled his way out from under Batman to crouch, by his dad’s side. He was breathing, and the moment Dick was away from him he curled slightly in on himself. Alive. He was alive. Which meant Dick could deal with the source of the danger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up and found the male clerk holding a gun aimed at the two of them, both hands shaking as he held it. Sound caught up to Dick then as the woman next to him was screaming, paralyzed by what had happened, yet still able to shriek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three thugs and an accomplice, Dick realized. It made sense, the best way to get at the end of night cash was if someone on the inside could let them know what was inside, and when to come get it. The man hadn’t fainted from fear, just as a fake out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick rolled out of the way as another bullet fired at him, crashing into the concrete where he’d been. He glanced back to make sure Bruce hadn’t been hit again and surged forward, bouncing to his feet and towards the shooter, making sure to keep empty alley at his back and not Bruce. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man let off a round of shots at Dick, one after another that made him duck and weave as he closed the distance between them. He flipped forward into a handspring, and got close enough to kick the gun out of the man’s hands before landing in front of him. He locked onto wide shocked eyes before punching the man in the face. His head bounced back against the brick and he was out for real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick tossed a zip tie to the woman who’d finally stopped screaming, “Tie him up too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he was running back to Batman. Bruce had sat up and even had a batarang in his hand like he’d been ready to help. His other was pressed to his upper thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” Bruce said, hand with the Batarang dropping, “It went through.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not.” Dick snapped, anger and fear roaring to the surface. He stood above his dad for a moment before flicking his comm to life, “Penny One, route the car to our location, we need a ride home and the med bay prepped.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that bad.” Bruce began to argue before a scathing look from Dick shut him up (he tried to ignore the way Bruce’s jaw had clamped shut the exact way Damian’s did whenever Dick had done the same).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignored his father’s protests and crouched to examine the wound, “One gsw to the upper left thigh, clean through and through. I’ll get a bandage on to stem the bleeding for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he spoke he was already pulling out a compression bandage and tearing it open. Bruce let him bandage the wound, and helped where he could. After that, Dick managed to pack all his worry and guilt away into a tight little ball he could ignore while they waited and he kept an eye on Bruce. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was all activity, moving between soothing the woman who was still upset and Bruce to make sure he hadn’t tried to get up and do anything yet. Then when the police arrived before the Batmobile he spoke with the leading officer who’d arrived to explain the situation before returning to Batman’s side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until the car had arrived and Dick had carried Bruce safely back home that the tight was of emotions he’d created started to unravel. He paced while Alfred stitched Bruce up, hot and sticky as sweat dried on his skin, trapped against his suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At last he was shooed off to the shower and Dick went only because he thought he might explode if he had one more second of not being able to do something. As it was, he rushed through the shower and collected clothes for Bruce while he was away. He couldn’t help but be glad no one else had come downstairs yet. Dick was pretty sure he didn’t have the patience to deal with much more right now, let alone a cold ridden Damian worried about them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Bruce was settled and Alfred had left Dick to watch over him, Dick found himself still so tightly wound he wasn’t sure what to do. He found himself pacing again as Bruce stubbornly worked on filling out the night’s report, despite Alfred’s suggestion that wait for the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do when Bruce turned in his chair. He paused his own pacing in case he was about to be needed. Instead Bruce leaned over, elbows on his legs, hands folded so he could rest his chin on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what’s wrong.” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick froze, staring at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he realized Dick wasn’t going to answer him Bruce sighed, “Something is wrong.” he said, “The whole night you’ve been off, and now when you’d normally wave this off with a joke,” he leaned back and untangled his fingers to motioned at his leg, the bandages hidden under sweatpants, but bulky enough to cause a lump, “I instead find you doing your best impression of me.” Bruce gave him a wry smile as he said it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--” Dick started, but couldn’t find the words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong. The night had been bad yes, and normally he would have teased and joked with Bruce to lighten both their moods, but inside Dick was still a mess. A tangle of things that only seemed to get tighter the more he tugged at them to find the source. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dick, Son, I’m okay. I’ll be home a few extra nights than planned this week, but I’m fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except,” Dick started, words finally bubbling up, almost too many at a time, “you aren't! You got shot. You got shot keeping me from getting shot for the second time in one night. You’re hurt and I’m not and it’s my fault. My fault for letting the night go so badly, my fault for spending the whole thing worried, worried about you and myself and of every false move we could have made and every problem that could have arisen and every moment that could have spelled your death or mine and--” the words flooded out of him in waves making less and less sense as he rambled about losing Bruce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because that’s what all this had been about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Chum.” Bruce said, and he was pushing himself up out of the chair, and hobbling over to Dick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick should have argued and told him to sit down but he’d only just realized he was actually crying. Huge tears slipped down his cheeks, blurring his vision and making each word seem thick and desperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just got you back.” Dick said, helpless, “I just got you back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce enveloped him in a hug that Dick melted immediately into. He wrapped his arms around his dad and buried his face in his chest sobbing as the tears flowed faster, wracking his chest and body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh.” Bruce soothed, one hand coming up to brush at the back of Dick’s head, smoothing hair down, fingers gentle against his scalp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought patrolling together would be good, like the old days, but the whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d lost you, and how I had to protect you now that you were here, and what if all this was just a dream, that I’d finally cracked and was seeing you in Damian’s place.” Dick rambled again, squeezing tighter, “I missed you so much.” he said, the words he’d been holding back, “Every day, B. Sometimes so much I thought I might die.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce pulled back just enough to tilt Dick’s face up to his, “I’m here.” he said, the promise a rumble against Dick’s chest still squished to Bruce’s, “I’m not going anywhere, Dick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head, “You don’t have to protect everyone all the time anymore. Let me take care of you, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dick said, and leaned back into Bruce, “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think about how he’d probably just pick up all those worries later. Or how he’d still protect Bruce no matter what. He pushed aside what ifs and fears and just let his dad hold him. He relished in the feeling of Bruce’s arms around him, something he’d wanted every day since he’d thought he’d lost him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dick’s heart had stopped racing and his mind had slowed he realized they were still standing there, in the middle of the cave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jerked back with a start, hands going out to grab Bruce by the arms, “Crap, B. Your leg! Why did you let me just stand there forever, come on back to a chair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce winced as they started moving but then smiled, “It’s not too bad,” he said, “I’d kind of forgotten about it if I’m honest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know.” Dick said, settling Bruce back at the computer and matching his smile, “Damian told me the same thing once. You two really need to spend some quality time together, you’re like the same person.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce scoffed, “I doubt we are the same, but you’re right about time. Maybe the three of us can do lunch tomorrow and you can point out all the ways I’m just like him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick grinned, “Sounds like a plan, but only if you get to bed at a reasonable time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped back as Bruce poked him in the side, “I get lost in time one time and come back to you acting like my father, I should be telling you to go to bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick rubbed at his side, smile widening, “Come on B, you and I both know I set our bedtimes way back when. It’s nothing new.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They looked at each other and laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, here’s the deal, you grab us some cocoa from upstairs and I’ll be up by the time you’re dropping the marshmallows in. After, we both go to bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal, but B? I’d suggest you finish up that work fast.” Dick said, then turned on his heel and bolted for the elevator with Bruce shouting “be careful!” and “slow down!” warnings behind him. </span>
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